


a dish best served murderous

by rhysgore



Series: Beautiful, Stupid, and Cruel [2]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Gen, Gore, OC Courier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 01:03:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6307849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysgore/pseuds/rhysgore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The courier accepts Caesar's first bestowment, brutally and bloodily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a dish best served murderous

**Author's Note:**

> uh hi, so this kinda gory and if u wanna know the specifics they're in the end note. otherwise, enjoy yourselves.

Upon meeting the courier, Caesar was certain of exactly three things. 

The first thing was that he did not like the courier. He didn't like the man’s shit-eating grin, he didn't like his aggressively cheerful manner of speaking, and he didn't like the courier’s habit of staring lecherously at anyone within ten feet of himself. The man’s accent was grating, his hair was absurd, and the fact that the future of the Legion might rest on those shoulders filled Caesar with a keen sense of dread.

The second was that the feeling was absolutely  _ not  _ mutual- the courier definitely liked  _ him,  _ something which he was almost disturbingly overt about, if the nickname “sugar daddy” was anything to go by.

The third and final thing was that Vulpes had some explaining to do. When the courier had been handed the platinum chip and the task of destroying House’s bunker and shown out of the cloth tent, Caesar turned to the frumentarius, glaring.

_ “This  _ is the man who’s been giving us and the NCR so much trouble?” He spat. “Well, I can see  _ why  _ he survived two bullets to the head, at least. It's hard to destroy the brains of someone who doesn't  _ have  _ any.”

Vulpes sighed. “I know, my lord. He is odd. But as far as I’ve observed… useful.”

“He’s a moronic, degenerate sex maniac.”

“All true,” Vulpes replied evenly. “He propositioned me as well. After I burned Nipton to the ground and crucified all its inhabitants. Apparently, he liked the  _ aesthetic.” _

“You didn't accept, did you?”

“No, lord.” Vulpes wrinkled his nose.

“Good. The last thing I need is you contracting some sort of profligate venereal illness,” Caesar grumbled, reclining on his throne. “So, you said the man’s name is…”

“Julis. But if you wish for him to remain in your service, I would advise you not to call him that. Information suggests he gets rather  _ unpleasant  _ when referred to by his birth name.”

“As in…?”

“As in he strangled the last person to call him that. I do not fear for your safety, lord, but it will probably be difficult to utilize him if he is a buckshot-riddled corpse.”  _ Although no one here would particularly mind if he did become one,  _ Vulpes didn't add. “He goes by the nickname Tex, apparently.”

“The accent’s northern. Have you found out anything about where he’s from?” Caesar filed the information on the courier’s name away for later use, and turned to another subject.

“Most information available indicated that he’s from a settlement in western Montana. I have sent several scouts, but they have not returned as of yet.”

“Good. Report immediately when you learn anything new.”

Vulpes turned away, facing towards the tent’s entrance again. Although schooled heavily in the art of hiding his emotion, his being was buzzing with anticipation as he waited, like everyone else, for Tex to complete his assigned task. Caesar was leaning forwards, waiting for a telltale explosion or rumbling that would signify the beginning of the end for House and for Vegas.

Presently, they were interrupted by a slight cough and a voice from the side of the tent.

“Um, fellas?” Benny piped up from where he was kneeling on the ground, cringing as the gaze of every single legionary zeroed in on him. “I don't mean to be rude or whatever, your hospitality’s been a-plus so far, but… were you planning on givin’ me to him?”

Caesar smiled wryly. Might as well humor the dead man.

“If he returns having completed his task successfully, yes. You put him in the ground- he gets to return the favor.”

The color vanished from Benny’s face like the plug had been pulled in a bathtub.

“Oh  _ god.  _ Hey, would’ja do me a favor, pussycat? Please, I’m beggin’ here- I know I ain’t done anything to earn your favor or whatever, but for chrissake, keep him the hell away from me. Let me go, or damn, just off me right here. Say I tried to attack ya or something, whatever, just please, don't let him get his hands on me.” He scooted forwards, knees rubbing together, struggling to keep his balance. “Just use that machete right there or somethin’, just like that. He doesn’t have to know. No harm, no foul, am I right?” A weak smile appeared on his face, belied by his full body trembling and the single bead of sweat that trickled down from his forehead to his chin.

Caesar raised an eyebrow. “Our intelligence suggests that instead of killing him when you had the chance, you fucked him.”

Benny laughed, a nervous little chuckle. “Yeah, well if you can get past the constant talkin’ and overuse of innuendos-  _ seriously _ not classy- he’s actually quite the charmer. And he’s got an ass like you wouldn’t  _ believe.” _ He laughed again, insincerely. Sweat shone on his forehead. “But for cryin’ out loud, I never would’ve even  _ considered  _ it if I coulda seen what he did to my bodyguards.”

Curious, Caesar opened his mouth with the intent to ask what  _ exactly  _ had Tex done when he was cut off by an earth-shaking rumble beneath his feet. It resonated through his body, rattling his teeth and spiking pain through his head. Caesar grimaced, but ignored it.

“Looks like he did his job,” he said. Vulpes allowed himself a terse smile, relaxing slightly where he stood. “I still need some assurance that he’s not just a blunt instrument, however. We can’t have a moron in charge of our more delicate, diplomatic operations.”

As if on cue, the tent flap burst open, and in walked a very happy, very dusty Tex, brushing himself off with a look of glee.

“Damn, House’s fuckin’ pissed. Hope whatever’s left of his robot army won’t fuck up my hotel room. I keep all my good alc-” he stuttered to a stop, eyes flickering around the tent, at every excruciatingly sober guard standing there. “-All my good  _ clothes  _ there. Yeah. You know how hard it is to get black lace panties after a nuclear war? All I’m saying is, they’re not exactly a thing people are fuckin’ rushing to save, and depriving the world of my ass in lace would seriously be a crime against humanity. Although I don’t know, it’s not every day you get to fuckin’  _ blow up an entire army of god damn robots.”  _ His face was flushed with exhilaration, round cheeks red.

“Well done. It seems you’re a master at taking simple orders,” Caesar said, joy at finally,  _ finally _ ridding himself of a major threat winning out over his irritation at the courier for the moment.

“Orders ain’t the only thing I can take.” Tex waggled his eyebrows. One or two of the Praetorians snickered, and Benny let out an exasperated groan, his tied hands preventing him from pinching his brow. “Although if bossin’ people around’s what you’re into…”

“I’d like to offer you something. A gift, for services rendered, and the first of many if you keep helping the Legion,” Caesar cut in, ignoring the dirty joke, but not the way Tex leaned forwards excitedly at the offer. “Today, your gift is that of revenge. You get to choose how Benny dies.” He nodded towards where the man was kneeling. “I suppose you’ll want to talk him, to inform him of his fate.”

The courier’s eyes lit up even brighter, and a wide, genuine smile split his face. He clapped his hands together, turned on his heel, and stalked over towards Benny with intent both joyful and malicious.

Vulpes leaned in, close enough to Caesar that his quiet murmur would not be heard by the courier. “Watch, my lord.” They both stared at the man, watched as he crouched down in front of Benny and pinched him by the cheek.

“Heya, Benny. Funny seeing you again here. Couldn’t get enough of me, hnnh?” Tex asked, shaking the flesh he’d grabbed. Benny stared at him, wide eyed and pale. “Aww  _ baby _ , look, don’t be like that. Just ‘cuz I gutted all your fuckin’ friends and left them in a pile outside the door of your hotel room doesn’t mean I’m gonna hurt  _ you.” _ He pinched harder, and Benny winced.

“Please…” he hissed, and Tex cocked his head slightly, hair falling at just the right angle that it revealed the ugly scar on his forehead. “I’m cryin’ uncle here, pussycat. Just kill me, if you’re gonna do it. My gun’s in my back pocket still, you can use it-”

Tex smiled, released Benny, and patted him lightly on the cheek. “I’m not gonna fuckin’ shoot you. I’m still thinkin’ about that night we spent together. You, me, me underneath you, face down in the mattress. That was nice. You may  _ seem _ like a shitty lay-” Benny made an indignant noise at this, “-it’s the hideous suit, trust me, it doesn’t do  _ shit _ for you. Anyways, you proved that you know how to use your dick. I like that in a guy, and I like guys like that in me. I was thinking, maybe we could do it again sometimes. I’ll provide the bed, you provide the rum, we mutually provide orgasms?”

Benny blinked, uncomprehending. He wasn’t the only one- on the throne, Caesar’s brow furrowed in irritation.

“Wait- you wanna-” The chairman stumbled clumsily over his words. “You’re gonna set me free?”

“That’s what you want, right?” Tex patted him on the cheek again, face open and guileless. “Hey Benny, have you ever given head? Be honest. I wanna know.”

“Why?” The courier shrugged.

“Because you’ve got a mouth that some people would kill for. I’m fuckin’ serious. It’d be a waste of good lips if you’ve never sucked someone off before.” They both laughed. The color was returning to Benny’s face, slowly but surely, and he smiled.

“No, sweetheart, I haven’t given head before. I betcha could teach me though, right? Not to be rude or nothin’ but you seem like you’d be pretty good at it.” He raised an eyebrow, smirking, and licked his lips suggestively. The old confidence was ebbing back, finally.

Tex clasped his hands together. “That sounds fuckin’ awesome, actually. I’d  _ love _ to teach you. Actually- hang on a minute.” He stood up, wincing at the pins and needles in his legs. “Vulpes? Hey-” He took a few steps towards the other man. “Hey. Let me borrow your ripper for a minute.”

“Why do you need my- ah.” Vulpes schooled his expression of amusement, and he unbuckled the handheld chainsaw from his belt, handing it to the courier. Beside him, Caesar leaned forwards, suddenly fascinated, a sentiment echoed by the praetorians ringing the tent. Their gazes followed Tex as he took slow steps over to their captive, humming some tuneless tune.

“Hey Benny-  _ open wide.” _

The look of pure, unadulterated fear on the chairman’s face when he realized exactly what was about to happen was almost comical.

“No, no, get that thing AWAY-” Tex grabbed him by the jaw, squeezing, holding his mouth open. The look on his face was almost serene as he slid the ripper past Benny’s lips, over his tongue, starting down his throat. It wasn’t on, but the sharp teeth still tore at the soft skin, and Benny coughed from being forced to swallow the combination of blood and sharp metal.

Once the ripper was as far down as he could get it, Tex stepped back to admire the sight- the fear on Benny’s face, eyes popping out, forehead shining with sweat, trying desperately not to move for fear of jiggling the precariously positioned weapon and slicing his esophagus open, but still shaking like a leaf.

“I’m sorry,  _ baby,”  _ he said. “You know, I wasn't lying or anything. You were actually fuckin’ good, and I might have let you live, if it weren't for one tiny thing.”

He pushed a swath of purple hair off of his forehead, combing it back so everyone could see the two distinct scars on his forehead. They hadn't faded since Benny had left them there, still a dark, unpleasant reminder of that night in Goodsprings.

“You  _ fucked with my face.”  _

A terrifying intensity enveloped the courier as he grabbed the handle of the ripper and squeezed the trigger. With an awful gear-grinding sound, the chain began to rotate, and the razor-sharp metal teeth dragged their ways up and down Benny’s throat, doing as their namesake suggested they would, and  _ ripping _ . Slowly at first, and then faster, as more and more flesh was cut away. Although the sound of his voice was still muffled, Benny howled in pain until the blades tore through his larynx, leaving him silent and choking on his own blood. Tex pushed the ripper down, farther down, rending flesh and muscle and bone apart, watching with a crazed look in his eyes as the body beneath him writhed and twitched, and finally went still.

A coppery-iron scent filled the air, heavy and insidious, as blood trickled out of the ex-chairman’s mangled corpse, into the rug and the sand beneath where he’d been kneeling. Tex pulled the ripper out of the torn remains of Benny’s throat and jaw, hand almost losing its grip on the now slick handle as he did so. Everyone was silent as the handheld chainsaw slowed, and then came to a stop.

Presently, Tex turned around and walked back over to Vulpes, holding out what he’d borrowed.

“Thanks,” he said, smiling again, all traces of his previous intensity vanished. 

Vulpes reached out, gingerly taking his blood-soaked weapon back. There were still strings of skin caught in the teeth, and what looked suspiciously like Benny’s aorta. As soon as he’d accepted it, Tex turned to Caesar.

“That was fuckin’ awesome. I’m probably-  _ definitely- _ going to beat off to that later. God, I just  _ love _ how you Legion boys do things!” He wiped his hands off on his previously only slightly dirty white tank top. “Shit. That’s gonna stain… eh, who the fuck am I kidding?  _ Totally _ worth it.” He fluttered his eyelashes. “So, how was that? I tried my best to do justice to your whole party platform shit but to also include some personal touches, ya know?”

Caesar smiled, a genuine smile untouched by the annoyance he had previously felt. “I must confess, I had my doubts about you. Vulpes told me you would be a valuable asset, but our first impression somewhat colored my opinion of you. I believe that with a little direction, you could turn the tide of this war in the favor of the Legion.”  _ It might also help if you kept your fucking mouth shut on occasion, _ he thought.

  
“Oh, you’re too fuckin’ kind… Kay-zar. Don’t say too much shit like that or I might fall in love.” The pronunciation was still botched, but improving. They’d make a legionary out of this profligate yet.

**Author's Note:**

> benny's throat is chainsawed from the inside, fatally. poor benny. i actually like the guy, and i feel kinda bad. also, mentions of past murders, but nothing canon-atypical on that front.
> 
> as usual, i'm legatelanivs on tumblr. hit me up.


End file.
